


the missing scene

by buvkissteves



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buvkissteves/pseuds/buvkissteves
Summary: remember that scene in civil war that was cut? it was an eight-minute long stevebucky scene? well here's part of it





	the missing scene

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone!
> 
> this is a very quick prompt off this tweet from my account (original tweet from a mutual): https://twitter.com/mycoveriscas/status/997197564272414721
> 
> hope you guys like the cute fluff!

Steve put the hellicarrier on autopilot, sighing as he took himself out of the chair. Although he could fly planes decently well (despite past events), he was always a bit anxious in the driver’s seat. He much preferred when Tony was steering, it gave him a lot more room to breathe. Being in the main position brought back too many bad memories—

War—

Ice—

A crash—

Steve sighed, looking over his shoulder, watching Bucky move from his seat over to the side, to the little nook. Steve frowned, walking over to him, taking it too much to heart that Bucky wouldn’t look up at him. He was looking at his feet, his hair falling down around his face.

Steve missed him. Steve missed him even though he was here, with him. Steve was at war with his best friends, with this new family he had found and chosen for himself, all for Bucky Barnes. The person he loved more than anything, anyone else. Steve wanted to make things okay with Tony, but this mattered more. Bucky always mattered more. Maybe it was co-dependency, maybe others thought it was unhealthy, but they had fought in a war together, lived and died together. They had been through more than most people had in a lifetime.

Steve would die for him, over and over, in every universe and reality that existed.

“Buck?” he asked, tilting his head, trying to catch his eyes.

Bucky didn’t look up at him, but he tensed slightly. That only pained Steve more. He didn’t know how to _fix_ this. He didn’t know how to make any of this better. He could only do what he knew how to do, which was to treat Bucky like he always did. To be with him in the only way he knew how. They had spent enough time apart. It was time for them to be together.

Steve walked closer to him, staring at him hard. He brought his hand up to Bucky, forcing himself not to falter, not to shake, to ask for what he wanted. His fingers wove themselves into Bucky’s hair, and Steve released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Steve slowly brushed his fingers through Bucky’s hair, and Bucky titled his head up, looking up at Steve with the most painful, heartbroken expression. Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach, as their gazes met, and Steve just wanted to climb on Bucky’s lap and cry.

But he held himself together.

He tucked Bucky’s hair behind his ear, his thumb extending to caress Bucky’s cheekbone. Bucky closed his eyes and let himself smile. Steve felt like he was holding something fragile in his hands, a moment that, if not treated carefully, or done properly, could shatter and be lost from him forever. Bucky was giving him this moment, and Steve would not betray that trust. Bucky’s state and vulnerability was a broken thing, and Steve was doing his best to piece him back together, to show Bucky that he was able to stay vulnerable.

Steve got on one knee, so he was level with Bucky, staring into those incredible eyes. They were sad, but beautiful—much like Bucky himself.

Bucky’s hand came to rest on Steve’s elbow, and Steve leaned in, Bucky meeting him, so their foreheads could touch. Bucky’s breath hit his lips, it was a shaky, uncertain thing. Steve let his eyes close, and said exactly what he felt.

“I miss you.”

Bucky said exactly what Steve knew he would say, “M’right here.”

“No,” Steve said. “I miss you. I miss us. I missed you when I woke up, missed you when I thought you died. I’ve been alive without you, but not living, Buck.”

Bucky sighed and dropped to the floor with him, Steve opening his eyes, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. They curled to each other, their bodies coming together, and they wrapped their arms around each other tightly. Steve breathed Bucky in, shivered when he felt Bucky’s nose press along his neck, then skim his jawline.

Bucky whispered in his ear, “You were the one thing they could never completely take from my mind.” Steve held him tighter, kissing right by Bucky’s ear. A soft, small, delicate thing.

They pulled apart, but stayed close all the same, their noses brushing, the two of them breathing heavily. Steve was looking at Bucky, but Bucky had his eyes closed. He looked like he was in pain, somewhere between the pain of being the Winter Soldier, and being himself. Stuck in that odd place that he hated, that Steve was still trying to figure out how to get him out of.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Tell me you love me.” His voice broke, and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned in, pressing his lips against Bucky’s. It wasn’t forceful, it was careful and practiced. It was familiar, it was something they had shared a thousand times before. It was Brooklyn, and sunsets, and sweet mornings with each other in bed. It was Bucky spooning Steve, it was Steve drawing Bucky. It was memories on top of memories. Their lips were soft and gentle against each other, no tongue, there was no need. They had time.

Steve would make sure they had time.

When they parted, Steve told him, “I love you Buck. Never loved anyone but you.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled oh so beautifully, one of his real ones, one of the smiles that Steve had dreams about. The one that was the equivalent to—no, better than the sun itself. “I love you too. Don’t…don’t make them take me, okay?”

Them was an abstract concept. Them was the government, HYDRA, SHIELD, the Avengers; them was anyone who wasn’t Steve Rogers.

“I won’t,” Steve promised.

Bucky nodded, running his human hand along Steve’s suit, then up his neck, and then cupping the side of Steve’s face. “After this, when the war is done, we’ll go home.”

Steve smiled back at him—what a pretty picture that would be. Back in Brooklyn, in a small apartment with Bucky, with Bucky’s books, Steve’s canvas and paint near the window. Coffee in the morning, maybe a cat.

“Home is wherever I’m with you.” Steve kissed Bucky’s nose.

Bucky rolled his eyes and Steve laughed, “God,” Bucky put his hand on Steve’s chest, pretending to want him away, pushing him back. “After all this time you’re still this much of a sap?”

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.”

“Or the worst.”

Steve laughed, and Bucky swallowed that with a kiss.

 


End file.
